


Mirrors

by Cyan (vehicroids)



Category: Voltron - Fandom, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Coming Out, Fluff, Gen, Pre-Canon, Trans Character, Trans Lance (Voltron), pre-kerberos, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 18:01:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13059240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vehicroids/pseuds/Cyan
Summary: Every morning, Lance came so close to going for it, and every morning, he backed out. That morning, however, something clicked.





	Mirrors

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to preface with this - this is a vent fic. It's been cleaned up to be legible, and that's about it. I upset myself the other night, and figured the best way to deal is with fluff. That's all I have to say for myself on this.

Lance stood in front of a mirror, examining himself. He pursed his lips, brows furrowed. He debated with himself every morning; did he really want to go out like this? There was nothing wrong with how he looked - come on, he knew he was hot - but it wasn't quite  _ him _ . This was his morning routine; he stared himself down in the mirror, daring himself to do what he was not quite brave enough to do.

Every time, he relented, brushed his hair and left. Lance told himself, one day, maybe after training, maybe after the garrison. He couldn't help himself, he kept putting it off, until there was a  _ better _ time.

But he didn't want to keep doing that.

That morning, while staring into the mirror, he wasn't sure what clicked. Lance's hands quickly fumbled with the buttons of his uniform, slipping it off and letting it tumble from his shoulders. He grabbed his binder from his drawers and put it on, then put his uniform back on.

Finally, Lance looked at himself in the mirror again, and he smiled. This wasn't the first time he did this, but it made him so happy every time. There was only one thing now, one silly thing, that bothered him. It was a stupid idea, and Lance was too vain to go through with it, but...

Fuck it. He reached into his bedside drawer, pulling out the scissors he had stashed away in there. He grabbed part of his hair in a bunch and looked back at himself. Lance was now locked in a staring match with himself, open scissors touching his hair. His jaw was locked, breathing laboured, as his brain went to war with itself.

Lance was no stranger to this situation; how many times had he just slammed the scissors down? How many times had he just given up, and gone back? If he stopped now, as he always did, no one would have to know, it could keep being his secret. But that was just it - he wanted everyone to know, now.

Lance squeezed his eyes shut and, in a rare moment of pure impulse, he closed the scissors. He heard the snip, and his eyes snapped open, watching some strands of hair fall on the floor. He didn't know if his heart had sunk, or if it was soaring, but either way, he couldn't stop now. He got to work cutting the rest of it, trying to style it to make it look at least  _ semi _ decent.

Lance looked… well, he looked kind of like a mess, there was no secret about that. But at least now he stood a chance at passing, he realised. With a kind of goofy laugh to himself, he ran a hand through his hair, feeling the choppy, uneven hair. This was a terrible idea, his worst idea, yet it was also brilliant, and his best idea.

He heard a knock and, with a yelp, he dropped the scissors with a clatter. “Lance, c'mon, wake up.”

_ Hunk _ . Shit, Lance had completely forgotten. He was meant to meet Hunk that morning for a study date - was date too heavy a word? It certainly would have been now, surely. Okay, he just needed to play it cool, give off some of that McClain charm.

Lance was screwed.

“Uh--” Lance cleared his throat. “Yeah. Yeah, I'm awake. Come in.”

Hunk and Lance shared everything, and Lance knew he could tell him anything. But this? No. His heart rate spiked at the thought; what if Lance lost him? No, Hunk wasn't like that, he was cool when Lance asked him to call him Lance. This wasn't that much different, and it didn't change anything.

Except it changed everything, and Lance thought his heart was going to give out. He should have  _ said _ something, instead of going for an impulsive route. This was his worst idea, and Lance bit his lip as hard as he could.

The door opened, and there was Hunk. Lance thought he was going to cry just looking at him, and Hunk gave him an odd look. He wanted to say something, anything, but his mouth couldn't form words.

“I uh-- oh man, I just-- okay, so like--” Lance bit his tongue, stopping himself, trying to force himself to calm down.

“Lance.” Hunk's voice helped calm him, even if just a little. He took in a breath to speak, stopped himself, and tried again. “Did you… did you cut your own hair?” Lance held his hands together, waiting for judgement that never came. “Cause it looks great, it does, it suits you but… can I just fix it for you?”

That was not the response Lance expected. He didn't expect Hunk to really be shitty about it, but he expected questions, shock, anything. Then again, it wasn't as if he had made a big secret of it.

Lance nodded and sat down, and Hunk came over. He picked the scissors from the floor and got to work cutting some bits Lance would never reach, tongue poking out.

“It's- it's probably not gonna be much better,” Hunk admitted with a laugh, “but we can go to the barber later.”

Hunk hummed, tongue poking out. Lance watched him, and he could hear his heart best in his ears. It was kind of amazing to watch the precision of an engineer, with a touch of artistic flair. If Lance focused on that, his nerves eased on him. His hands were balled into fists on his lap, eyes ever on the mirror.

What did Lance do to deserve a guy like him in his life? He knew he was lucky. Hunk smiled, running his fingers against the back of Lance's hair, sending a shiver down his spine.

“You've got a little mullet going on, here.” As if to further prove his point, Hunk ran another finger down it.

Lance laughed; it wasn't like he could really reach back there. “How bad?”

“It's not  _ bad _ bad, but it's definitely longer than the rest,” Hunk hummed. “It's kinda cute. ...in a handsome way?”

Hunk was so sweet - he had no idea what was going on, but he was just kind of rolling with it, testing the waters. Lance couldn't help but grin at him when Hunk called him handsome, and he did see that look of relief on his face.

“You probably think I'm a mess,” Lance sighed with a small frown. “I know, I have a lot to explain, but… I just wanna leave it as it is now, okay?”

Hunk paused, looking at him through the mirror. “Can I just ask one question?” Lance hesitated, before nodding. “Are you a guy?”

Lance sucked in his breath. “Yes.” He refused to break eye contact. “This doesn't change anything, right?”

Hunk put the scissors down, having finished cutting. He placed his hands on Lance's shoulders. “No, this doesn't change anything, I'm just making sure.”

Lance didn't say anything, but he smiled widely. He got up and turned to Hunk, pulling him into a tight hug. Hunk made a noise of confusion, but reciprocated the hug, rubbing his back softly. This meant the world to Lance, and he couldn't stop smiling. This was the best day of his life.

Lance let him go and patted his shoulders, before giving his reflection one final glance over. “Look out world, your prince charming is here.” He gave his reflection finger guns and a wink, and Hunk just groaned. His boyfriend was an idiot.


End file.
